


The Sweetest Corruption

by RavenZaphara



Series: Writing Prompts/Excercises [2]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Angst, F/M, Gen, Love Story, M/M, One Shot, Other, Secrets, Supervillain, superhero
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-02
Updated: 2016-08-02
Packaged: 2018-07-28 23:54:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7662085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RavenZaphara/pseuds/RavenZaphara
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Writing Prompt:</p><p>A supervillain and a superhero are roommates, but they don’t know. Every day, they go out and do battle, and then they come back and take care of each other while lying about how they got all beaten up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Sweetest Corruption

**Author's Note:**

> Big thanks to butnobodycame for beta-ing this! You da real mvp ^.^
> 
> I got the writing prompt from tumblr.  
> http://writing-prompt-s.tumblr.com/

It had been a mistake, kissing him. I had only meant to make him pause… I had only meant to make him speak. He never spoke and I wanted to bring him to that state of ruin. I hadn’t expected him to hungrily reciprocate, that smallest of gasps leading into the maelstrom of the most passionate kiss I’d ever experienced.

Instant regret, on both of our accounts. I felt him pull away, and for the first time i took a good look at his eyes. I could tell he was wearing contacts and for once I wondered if he was intelligent under all that bravado.

It wasn’t likely, I mused.

He looked enraged. I let him be. I deserved it.

Just to press the envelope, I leaned in and kissed him again, softly this time, and just as before, he responded. I couldn’t help but map out his face with my fingertips, memorize the sensation of his lips against mine. He let me break the kiss, and I met his gaze with solemn eyes. The rage was still there, but it was… darker. Mixed with confusion.

He didn’t follow me as I ran. He didn’t even move. Even though I had been the one retreating, I had won.

It was the most empty victory ever, I admitted, touching my lips.

 

* * *

 

Now though…

I couldn't think of a way to excuse my soreness, my aches. The lies were all tired, and my roommate and I knew it. I let him assume I was still being tracked, still being kicked around. He wasn't necessarily wrong, after all. The brisk sprint home had taken a lot out of me, but he looked worse for wear.

“Look, uh… I dunno what happened this time.” I wasn’t lying at all. I was tired, lounging in a bathtub filled with water that was colder than the dread that crawled into my stomach. There was something about his eyes that bothered me tonight. He looked haunted.

He nodded, checking his face in the mirror. His knuckles were bruised and his face was bloodied. Since he was shirtless, I could see his lovely physique marred with bruises. I couldn’t move through the stiffness, but I wanted to. I wanted to comfort him, help him treat the wounds. I never asked questions about his fights. I knew I wouldn't like it.

I knew that for years now, he'd fought for me.

Staring at his back now, I wanted to reach out and touch him in ways I’d been afraid to for years now. But I couldn't. He didn't know that I fought for him, too. He just… thought that he wasn't doing enough. He thought this was something he could make go away with his fists, but it’s my job.

I just wanted him to be safe.

He turned to look at me, that handsome grin leaving me breathless again. Even with his face covered in his own blood, he was beautiful.

I tried to deny to myself that I had imagined him in place of my nemesis. That kiss… Despite the chill of the water, I felt warmth at the idea of something so personal, so passionate. Between the two of us… I would give anything for it.

He came closer and I dabbed a washcloth at his wounds. When his face was clean I still continued, briefly feeling a tug of memory at the sight of a scar over the ridge of his nose before his hand closed over mine.

“You’re shivering.” He said, and before I could protest, he lifted me from the bath effortlessly.

How could anyone beat him? He’s perfect. He could never lose, especially with that pigheaded attitude… Whatever street brawls he took part in in my name… I had no room to talk, of course, but…

His eyes remained steady on mine. Patching each other up was one thing but… this was different. He held my cold body close to his bared chest and walked out of the bathroom. “I… apologize if I… seem out of it.” He said.

“Concussion?” I guessed. It would explain a bit. He was quieter than usual. It unnerved me.

He shook his head and put me down gently on my bed. He sat at the foot of it and looked at the floor rather than at me.

“I'm starting to… understand that I could die any time this happens.” He clutched his hands together to keep them from shaking. “I do dangerous stuff, and today… it just… kinda sunk in.”

“Please stop doing it.” I pleaded, my hand touched his shoulder. He was all hard planes, but he was so sweet, so smart. So strong, in so many ways.

“I… I can’t.” He whispered, and looked back at me. “But… what I can do…” He was steeling himself. “I can make sure I have no regrets.”

I watched him warily as he took a deep, steadying breath… and kissed me softly, tentatively.

I had been waiting for this, but something spoiled the memory. This should have been the first time.

This time, it was I who gasped into the kiss. He froze. He knew, too, now. I watched the shock play over his face, and the guilt, as he pulled away. He wasn’t wearing the contacts now, I realized, and god… how had I not noticed sooner?

The scar across his nose, yes… but also that hard set to his jaw. That stubbornness that I’d equated to ignorance. I felt raw inside, ravaged by the sudden realization that I’d hurt him. I’d hurt the man I loved. In his own name, even. But right now, he was nothing like that person. Right now, he wasn’t my nemesis. I touched the wound on his forehead and realized with cold certainty that I had done that.

My words were trapped. So were his. He looked so beaten, so absolutely dead. I leaned in and kissed him back. He returned it without hesitation, his arms encasing me, pulling me closer. It was as it should be. He could deal with defeat another day.

No one had to know that I had won.

 

* * *

 

The next day was the hardest. He stared at me for a moment, blankly. He was looking for any sign that I was indeed the same person he’d held so tenderly the night before. And yet, true to form, he didn’t speak.

“Are we really going to do this?” I asked, not bothering to hide my voice behind the persona I’d adopted as a villain.

His expression withered and he looked away. He clenched his fists.

Even now, my lips burned and I felt like crying. I would do anything. _Anything_ to take that edge from his eyes.

“No.” He said.

I stood there for a moment, stunned into silence. “No?”

He moved forward in the way he usually did. It must be the shoes that make him look so intimidating when he walks, I thought absently. I met his eyes, saw that he wasn’t wearing contacts over those gorgeous grey-blue eyes.

His expression wavered, pain emanating. “I’ve been fighting for you all along.” He grabbed my shoulders. “I’m done.” His words sounded hollow. “You’ve broken me. You win.”

“No, that’s…”

He cut me off with a kiss. “You. Win.” His voice cut through my protests. He smiled at me. “Together, we can fix this.” It was a question. I nodded and hugged him. Already, I knew that he would be ousted from his society. I would be all he had left.

He was all I’d ever had. All I ever wanted.

Indeed… I had won.

Most satisfying victory ever, I admitted, touching my lips.

**Author's Note:**

> Want more? I have many works in progress for the Undertale fandom, if you're into that. 
> 
> http://zaiyofics.tumblr.com/


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